Fortunes Sail the Dead Sea
by Jam Striped Panda
Summary: Alternate. Rushing it was- thrilling perhaps. But never frightening. The pain had washed away leaving his senses honed far beyond the norm. He knew then what he had not known before; that he was unusual for a reason. Slash, evil!Harry, BoyWhoLived!Neville
1. Prelude

**disclaimer: **I do not own anything that occurred or was mentioned in the original Harry Potter books. All characters coming from the books belong solely to J.K Rowling. Anything that was not expressed in the books, is solely of my opinion or other people's that I agreed with on some level.

**warnings: **violence, swearing, shounen ai (boy/boy), ooc-ness, evil!Harry, good-but-still-evil!Draco, Boy Who Lived!Neville, and more... (:D)

**a/n: **Eh... just read it. This idea has been bothering me for a very long time. ;-;

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**I can remember a place I used to go--  
Chrysanthemums of white.  
They seemed so beautiful.**

Laughter and soft music trailed from the Potter's family home, that he knew the location of thanks the groveling Pettigrew, and thanks to the rat he could kill two birds with one stone. The Longbottoms had come to visit the Potters, to try and figure out what each family would do if the other was attacked by he. A wicked grin appeared on Riddle's face as he signaled for his Death Eaters to enter the house and kill the parents (who he knew were the only ones there besides the two children). Their screams were music to his ears, and when they died out so that only a child's cries could be heard, he entered the home.

The two Death Eaters that came with him- Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange- each held a child in their arms. The Longbottom boy was held by Lucius, and the Potter child was held by Bellatrix. Neville was bawling his eyes out, while the other boy was silent and hardly seemed to notice any change. Riddle noticed the strangeness of the babe and beckoned for Bellatrix to hand him the child, upon holding the child he realized what was wrong with the babe. Softly whispering, he directed the words to the dark haired child, "'_Borne of the living as the dead, by the age of five if not thy dead killed, he shall see no more moons. Killed by the curse of death, he be, then he shall prove his heritage true. Childe changed in the womb, marked so all shall see, a drop of blood, thy Lord be renewed._' You are that child, are you not?" The child did not return the remark, but the faint fluttering heartbeat proved to be the babe's downfall, and the lightning bolt scar upon his brow be the proof Riddle needed.

His grin spreading, he placed the tip of his wand on young Harry Potter's scar, and with all intent uttered the words, "_Avada Kedavra_!" As the alien green light engulfed the boy, his deep emerald eyes opened suddenly and he began cry as a newborn should have. "I wonder, who's side shall you be on?" Riddle asked the child as he passed the babe to Bellatrix, who in turn lay the now crying child on the couch. Taking Neville, Riddle prepared to kill this child with the same curse, and was baffled as the light returned at him. To the astounded gasps of Lucius and Bellatrix the Dark Lord vanished completely as it seemed, and his two followers fled the scene. Leaving to crying babes, one crying for the first time, the other crying because of the pain the smooth leaf-shaped scar upon his neck caused.

Albus Dumbledore arrived shortly after he had felt the Dark Lord's power vanish, with Sirius Black and Hagrid accompanying him. He took no notice of the fact that Harry was now crying, a tiny white chrysanthemum lying in his arms. The headmaster of Hogwarts picked up Neville and declared to Sirius- who had picked his godson up in his arms- "The Boy Who Lived- Neville Longbottom has brought about the end of Voldemort. For now, he must be trained to defeat the Dark Lord when he returns. Hagrid? Take him to his grandparents, they will take care of him well."

The giant sniffed and told Dumbledore that he would be honored to, while Sirius cradled Harry in his arms- delighted that his godson was staring at him happily with his dark emerald eyes. Suddenly, the head of the Black family asked, "And what of Harry? Do I get to take custody of my godson?"

Disinterestedly Dumbledore said, "Yes, of course, he is your godson, you are entitled to his care. Now- now we need to lock Pettigrew up in Azkaban... he sold the Potter's location so that when this happened, Voldemort would be able to kill both children!"

**I can remember--  
I searched for the amaranth.  
I'd shut my eyes to see.**

Sirius Black threw down the Daily Prophet in a huff, the stupid newspaper was still writing about the Boy Who Lived even when the boy was going to start Hogwarts. It was pointless, completely insane in his opinion. Who cared if Neville was finally going to be ready to officially learn magic? The boy had already been taught third and fourth year magic, why did it matter that he got to learn properly, amongst students? He turned at the question of, "Something wrong Padfoot?"

The dark-haired man softly as his almost eleven-year old godson, almost taken back at most times at the uncanny resemblance Harry had to his father- James. Silently the older man mused, _All but his deep emerald eyes. And the fact that he is so unlike James and Lily in personality. Well- no matter how he ends up in the future, I shall support him. _Aloud he answered, "The wizards and witches of the worlds are still hooked on the Boy Who Lived, as if it wasn't enough that when the kid was five his grandmother had gotten him engaged to the Malfoy heir- with Lucius's content! Something about a prophecy that the two would be great together, ugh!"

The unruly haired boy laughter rang out of soothing bells, as he agreed with godfather, "Ew is right Siri! A Malfoy and a Longbottom? What has the world come to!?" Sirius's laughter joined his godson, until a rapping on the window distracted them. A tawny owl was scratching at the glass, clearly wanting to get out of the late July heat. Knowing what it was at this point, the older man opened the window to let the owl in. The bird promptly dropped the letter and fled form the house of rude people who didn't let it in. Chuckling, Sirius handed Harry the letter.

Harry cleared his throat with a fake gesture, "Dear Harry Black Potter, of Goric Hollow..." He continued to scan the letter and grinned, "Siri! Siri! I'm going to Hogwarts- finally! But really, it doesn't matter since I've already learned up to the fifth year spells but-"

"Yes, yes, Harry, but we better go get the first year essentials for Hogwarts, and you better pretend you weren't taught those spells already! If you're good, I'll teach you sixth year spells during the holidays, and over the summer," his godfather laughed happily, "Now let's get you to Diagon Alley to shop for things you already know about!" Laughing, they went on their way, not expecting who they were going to meet at Diagon Alley.

They had gotten everything for Harry but his robes and wand- so the two were entering Madame Malkin's when the heard, "Really Neville, you could have a bit more taste. You are the Boy Who Lived after all!"

Curious, they walked in, with Sirius suddenly joking to Harry, "With you gone, I'll have more time with Moony! Thank you Hogwarts!"

In turn his godson snorted, "And I won't have to listen to you tw-"

He was cut off by his godfather greeting a tall blond standing off to the side of the store, "Hello Lucius! Good to see you again, eh?"

The blond- Lucius Malfoy almost scowled when he saw the lithe dark haired man greeting him but greeted the man in turn. It wouldn't do to be on the bad side of one of the Black's- no matter how they acted, they all had dubious connections and twisted senses of humor. Sirius grinned and told his godson, "Why don't you go talk to Lucius's son, and Neville? They seem to be having their robes sized- I have something to talk to Lucius about, and I'll just wait here for Madame Malkin to bring your robes from the back."

Scowling, the emerald eyed boy stalked over towards the blond and the brown-haired boys sitting in chairs as two assistants measured them. The blond turned to stare at Harry first then sneered, "Harry Potter, eh? Sirius Black's godson, heir of the Black family fortune. I see you're attending Hogwarts as well, pleasure to meet you. I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy."

Neville rolled his eyes slightly at the blond's antics, "Don't let Draco get to you, Harry, I'm Neville Lon-"

"I've heard both of your names in the Prophet, doesn't take much to realize who Rita means. _Delighted_, I'm sure, to have met such fine people. But really? I'm against the societal norm, so lets hope I don't find reasons to hate you both," Harry interrupted distastefully, he, like the Black family who raised him, was unusual. The Black family was always strange, with a history of family members going to all the Houses of Hogwarts, and being both good and evil- the Black Family was truly a mixing pot.

At that moment the two boys in the chairs received their fitted robes, and Sirius came towards Harry holding a shrinking silver parcel that Harry was sure held his robes, followed by Lucius. "Well, since all of us need to go to Ollivander's, why not go now?"

So they went, much to the displeasure of the three boys. Neville and Draco talked like Harry wasn't there, not that the younger boy cared much at all. Once at Ollivander's it took the old wandmaker only a few minutes to find Draco's, which appropriately held a dragon heartstring, it took a little longer to find Neville's- which had a unicorn hair. Then it was Harry's turn, and he went through several wands until the wandmaker went away for a few minutes to come back with a dusty black box with a blood colored ribbon sealing it shut. He took the dark-colored wand from the box and handed it to Harry- who noticed that in the dim light a faint sheen of red could be seen in the wood. The wandmaker whispered, "11 inches, supple, holly, with a single phoenix feather as the core."

This time the wand reacted calmly to his presence, tiny red and black sparks dripping from the tip for a few seconds before they stopped flowing. Ollivander frowned and muttered, "Strange that the brother wand of You-Know-Who goes to Harry Potter, and not Neville Longbottom. Strange indeed, seeing as the tail feather in your wand was given by the same phoenix at the same time as You-Know-Who's. Strange, odd indeed. Then again... the Black family has always been strange..."

Before things could get out of hand, Sirius paid Ollivander and grabbed Harry and apparated back to the Black family home. Facing Harry he told his godson, "You are not to tell anyone about that wand's origins other than those who need to know! We do not need people thinking you are the next Voldemort- alright?" Harry nodded, his eyes wide at the thought of someone thinking he would be a Dark Lord!

**Oh, how I smiled then,  
So near the cherished ones.  
I knew they would appear...  
Saw not a single one.**

The next time that anyone noticed Harry was when he was called up to be sorted, his dark emerald eyes scanning each table with a silent distaste. As the hat was placed on his head, his eyes were glaring silently at the Gyffindor table where Longbottom and Malfoy sat next to each other, the other Gryffindors completely content with this. His eyes turned over to the Slytherins who understood that if Malfoy was in Gryffindor, then the blond would make sure that they were treated better by the other Houses.

The unruly haired youth tried to pretend that he was not startled by the voice whispering in his ear, "_Hello, boy. What house do you want to be in? No... rather... what house will you fit in best with? None of them really... but you are cunning, as all those raised as a Black are... Plus, somewhere, somehow you have a deep running ambition... Then.."_

Harry pretended to take a deep breath, but really couldn't be bothered by where the hat put him. He almost smiled when the hat shouted, "Slytherin!"

Almost.

Ignoring the clapping Slytherins, he took a seat at the more empty end of the tables, waiting for the few others to be sorted. When the headmaster spoke he barely heard the words that left the old man's mouth, but snorted when he heard how completely pointless the speech was. The only thing he was glad for was that because there was an odd amount of Slytherin first year boys, Harry would get a room all to himself.

Few people noticed the Potter child as he always took a few tries to to do something successful other than in Potions, and the Care of Magical Creatures class.

Two interesting things happened that year.

The first being that Harry Potter happened to be in detention with Neville, Draco, Hermione, and Ron when they went into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid to look for an injured unicorn. Harry went with Fang, which meant he had to deal with Malfoy and Longbottom. His lip curling up in distaste, he followed the path of silver blood to which they found the unicorn. And what had attacked the unicorn. Malfoy and Longbottom had panicked and fled, leaving Harry to stare at the shrouded figure that approached. Pain twisted around in his body as a memory came slithering back with a burning vengeance- the creature slid towards the boy until a centaur rescued the writhing boy, taking him to Hagrid.

The only thing they got from Harry was, "No- No- That can't be... I'm _human_..." They couldn't get anything out of the boy- not even Dumbledore who attempted to enter the boy's mind, only to find it blocked by something unusual.

Second, after Neville had destroyed Quirell, the injured group of teens found Harry injured as well- and decided to ask the boy why he was there. "So- Why are you here, Potter?" Malfoy had sneered, "Had a fright again so you fainted?"

"I thought I stated earlier this year- don't give me reason to hate you?" The younger boy growled, ignoring the glares from the other four teens.

"Oh- ignore him Draco, he's not worth the time-" Hermione begged, oblivious to the glares from Neville.

At that second Pansy had run in, and her attention was quickly turned to Harry, "Harry! Harry! Are you alright!?"

Wincing at his friend's shouts, Harry replied weakly, "It was just a scratch, Pansy."

"Just a scratch!? You could have lost your arm! There was so much blood..." The girl whined, concerned for her friend.

"Fine- It's not a scratch- its a wound, happy? But I don't see why you have to worry, I can still move my arm. What's worse is that that old git is probably going to give more points to Gryffindor to make it so Slytherin doesn't get the house cup," he returned, his features set in a silent scowl.

And he was right, much to the Gryffindors' pleasure.

**Oh, how I smiled then,  
Waiting so patiently.  
I'd make a wish and bleed.  
While I waited I was wasting away.**

Over the summer, the Malfoy and Longbottom family came to visit one of the Black's... more remote homes. They found it slightly odd to find six year and above books lying around the sitting area, and a young Harry pouring over one book called, '_Rare and Unreachable Mythical Beings of Earth and the Beyond_' by an unknown author. "Siri! Guests!" the boy called, not once looking up as Sirius came down followed by Remus Lupin. As Sirius greeted his unexpected guests Harry turned to ask Remus, "Moony... has anyone ever seen a '_Solki_'?"

"Well once or twice... supposedly, but those people are dead, why do ask?" The werewolf wondered why his godson-by-law was looking up such creatures.

"I was just curious," Harry sniffed, pulling a dejected look on his face which made Remus scowl.

"Harry," the boy turned at the serious tone of his godfather's voice, "Lucius says you've been 'mean' to his son and future son-in-law. Is that true?"

"I've been distant, Sirius, not mean. Besides- one would think that someone could believe in their child enough to let him solve his own problems," Harry said sending a sharp glare towards Neville and Draco.

"I have to agree with my godson on that one, Lucius. So would you like to stay for lunch? And Harry, I invited Blaise over so... good luck," Sirius said, somehow delighted at having people over.

Harry groaned as the door opened and another dark-haired, but taller boy ran in and promptly tackled the younger one. "Blaise! Get off of me!" The smaller boy whined.

"No way- your so cute-" Blaise snickered, poking Harry in the stomach.

"I'm not cute!"

"You are."

"Am not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"You are, 'cause I say so."

"Am not, 'cause I'm the one who knows how he looks."

"You are, 'cause other people's opinions matter."

"Am not..."

"Ha! I win," Blaise declared, letting Harry get up.

"Nice one, Zabini," Neville snorted holding out a hand to Blaise.

"Oh? The Golden Boy offering me, a Slytherin, his friendship? I'm touched, but I would rather stick with Harry... see he's adorable, and you aren't," Blaise snorted stubbornly, ignoring Harry's mutter of, "I'm not cute."

"Harry, dear, we've already had this conversation- You are cute, now get over it. Use it to your advantage," Blaise offered his pouting friend, who turned away with his arms crossed, "So Sirius, where are taking Mr. I'm-not-cute, for his birthday this year?"

"I was thinking that Muggle zoo he likes... the one with nearly every species of snake known to Muggles, since the kid enjoys watching the serpents," Sirius replied with a grin, clearly ignoring the other company.

"That's awesome! Are you inviting Vincent, Greg, Theodore, and Pansy as usual Harry?" He asked, turning his attention to his friend.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Harry asked, tilting his head in the perfect picture of innocence.

"Well the Golden Boy and his future fuckbuddy are standing here, I was wondering if you're friends with them now?" The other boy asked, a hurt puppy expression on his face.

"Ew- no, why would I want to be friends with them? I don't like them..." Harry whined, making a gagging motion, to which Sirius, Remus and Blaise laughed at.

**I can remember...  
Dreamt them so vividly,  
Soft creatures draped in white,  
Light kisses gracing me.**

**I can remember when I first realized--  
Dreams were the only place to see them.  
While I waited I was wasting away.  
Hope was wasting away.**

Blaise, Theodore and Pansy made it their goal in the second year to torture the Golden Boy and his friends- not really caring about the repercussions of the fact that one of the said friends was a Malfoy. It had gone far enough that Pansy had called Granger a mudlood, and then the three had run off laughing. In anger the four Gryffindors followed to get revenge on the three Slytherins but had stopped at Blaise's cry of, "Harry!"

Curious they had peered around the corner and crept up behind the three Slytherins crowded around a prone figure. Hermione had gasped when she saw the damage done to the out-cold Slytherin's arms, and assumed he was petrified like the other students had been this year. On Harry's pale bare arms, bloody imprints of scales appeared on the upper half and slowly slid to show scrape wounds clearly done by the scales. Alerting one of the nearby paintings, which in turn alerted Professor Snape, who came in a rushed manner towards the students.

By that time, Harry had opened his eyes and was whimpering softly, trying to get away from the other students, and even tried to get away from the professor. Snape glared at each of the Gyffindors and told the students to return to their dorms as he took Harry to Madame Pomfrey.

The next day, the four Gryffindors decided to visit the injured boy in the infirmary as soon as his Slytherin friends had left. "Did you see what had attacked you?" was what Neville had asked the second the younger boy turned towards them.

"Possibly..." He trailed off, his emerald eyes looking out the window down on the Forbidden Forest as if the others weren't there.

"If you did, you better tell us Potter," hissed Draco, his silver eyes narrowed darkly at the Slytherin.

Suddenly the younger boy returned the glare full force and sneered back at the blond, "Oh? Doesn't the good little Gryffindor know what's in the Chamber of Secrets? Well- I wouldn't think you would- after all only a Gryffindor could be stupid enough to not realize what would be in a Chamber that only opens to a Slytherin. Really, but I'll tell you whats in there. I'll tell you- its a basilisk. Now leave."

They left, since they hadn't wanted to unravel the mystery that was Harry Potter, and went about trying to figure out where the Chamber of Secrets was located. They soon figured it was Myrtle's bathroom, and decided to go there to rescue Ginny when she had disappeared. Entering the bathroom late in the night, they found Harry sitting on one of the sinks talking with Myrtle.

"I think thats superb, Harry," Myrtle cooed as the living boy's face turned into a scowl.

"You would- you have nothing left to lose," he said curtly.

"It would seem so, ta-ta Harry, come visit soon," the ghost cooed as she slid away from view.

Ron growled at Harry, "What are you doing here, Slytherin!? You're the one who controls the basilisk!?"

"No, I do not control the over grown snake. I'm just here because I figured you would like to, I dunno, actually get to the Weaselette?" He tilted his head, the glares getting annoying.

"You can open it, Potter? Show us," Draco demanded as the younger boy jumped down from the sink he was sitting at and turned to face the faucet.

Strangely it had a mark on it that appeared to be a snake- a living one, at that. Bending down close to the snake's head they heard Harry hiss something in an unusually lilting sound for a snake- and then the sinks rose to the ceiling, revealing the large pipe below. "Ta-dah," muttered the parseltongue, stepping back as the basilisk rose from the pipe, its eyes shut. Suddenly the snake wrapped its head around Harry and dragged the boy down into the pipes.

With quick glances around the Gryffindors went down the pipe as well, getting Hermione and Ron trapped on one side, while Draco and Neville could follow the sound of the basilisk's scraping scales. They barely made it past the strange door as it slid shut, and watched as the basilisk dropped Harry next to a prone Ginny. The notebook lay open on the other side of the redheaded girl, and a tall pale dark haired teen was watching Harry as he stood up.

Scowling the nearly see-through teen hissed something at Harry, to which the now standing boy said in English, "Sure, Tom, I'd love to help you- but you sent that snake after me. Twice. I don't think that helps you much, now go find some other pawn. Oh yes and-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as the basilisk whipped its head towards the boy, causing him to slam against the floor and fall unconscious.

He was told when he woke up in the infirmary that Draco and Neville had saved his life by killing the basilisk. Harry was not grateful at all.

The third year, nothing unusual happened other than Harry capturing Scabbers- who turned out to be Peter Pettigrew- and giving the rat to Dumbledore. Then Pettigrew was killed of the Dementor's Kiss shortly afterwards, and Ron was nearly killed by a Hippogriff.

Fourth year found most of the school rooting for Cedric in the Triwizard Tournament, and saying that Longbottom stinks. In the final trial, Cedric was killed by Voldemort- who Dumbledore claimed had returned. The only thing that hadn't been mentioned by Neville to Dumbledore was that Harry Potter had been there, and that Voldemort's servant had taken a single drop of Harry's blood to complete the ritual of reviving Riddle. Riddle had snarled at the servant for chaining Harry up, released the chained teen and told him to go back to Hogwarts. Then Harry left in what seemed to be an angry huff, and Riddle called the Death Eaters.

Still- no one really ever noticed Harry Potter until the fifth year. The year that the Ministry decided it should intervene.

**Faith was wasting away.  
I was wasting away.  
I never, never wanted this.  
I always wanted to believe--**

**But from the start,  
I'd been deceived.  
I'd never, never wanted this.**

The train ride to the school during the fifth year, found Harry in an empty compartment trying to avoid his friends, pain curling over his features. Sighing he pulled himself from his state of being curled up as he heard someone approaching the compartment. It turned out to be prefect Draco Malfoy, who seemed shocked that Blaise or Pansy weren't there. "Where are your little friends, Potter?" the blond had sneered.

The younger teen had just shrugged, ignoring the blond's shocked expression, and then asked, "When will you be leaving Malfoy?"

"Now," snarled the blond, walking away from the younger teen, muttering about how ignorant and stupid Harry was.

As the door slammed shut, Harry bent down and cradled his knees- it still hurt. And he didn't know why, which made it hurt even worse. There was nothing worse than not knowing what was causing you grief- since then, you couldn't fix the problem. However, some part of his mind told him that the pain was only part of the process. To which the teen had asked what sort of process, and had gotten no reassuring answer from the part of his mind that seemed to know everything.

The train halted to a stop, and Harry cursed his luck at having to be in pain at Hogwarts for no _reason_.

**Inside a crumbling effigy,  
So dies all innocence.****  
But you promised me...

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a/n; **Was it decent enough? I hope so... This was only the prolouge, story gets flowing in the first chapter. Which will probably be up on Wednesday or Thursday. Possibly Tuesday, but somehow I doubt it. It is a bit long compared to other things I've written... x3

If you liked it review-

If you didn't like it tell me why you didn't-

:D


	2. A Pain Worthy of Death Himself

**disclaimer: **I do not own anything that occurred or was mentioned in the original Harry Potter books. All characters coming from the books belong solely to J.K Rowling. The bold faced lyrics featured in the prologue, was _The Great Disappointment _by AFI. The bold face lyrics in this chapter is _The Pharaoh Sails to Orion_ by Nightwish.

**warnings: **violence, swearing, shounen ai (boy/boy), ooc-ness, evil!Harry, good-but-still-evil!Draco, Boy Who Lived!Neville, and more... (:D)

**a/n:** Nothing to say but- enjoy!

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**"Get away from me!  
Take heed to thyself and see my face no more!  
for in the day Thou see my face  
Thou shalt die!"  
- Exodus 10:28**

"_Do you die today?_"

The words left his lips in a silky, sorrowful tone that seemed unreal for he who should have not seen much in his limited lifespan. Reaching out to touch the reflection that stared mockingly back at him- and tried to scratch out the mocking stare that was returned through dark emerald eyes. Water dripped from the ends of his even darker hair- forming a steady rhythm of plops into the sink below. Mesmerized by the haunting stare that told him- told him that he was not the same as his friends. "No never the same-"

A sigh slipped from his lips, and he shook the water from his hair, trying ever to block out the sight of his eyes in the mirror. Whenever he saw his own eyes, he saw what had scared him to the bone in his first year when he saw the thing that had attacked the unicorn. Gripping his arms tightly, the bare flesh bruising quickly before the blotches slid away faintly, he pushed the painful images away. Away from the lids of his eyes, back to the dredges of his mind to hopefully stay there. Then again- nothing was ever that easy for him, and Harry dressed in the dull school robes they were forced to wear.

Why couldn't this school- like many muggle public schools- allow the students to wear what they wanted? Right now he would kill to wear something with any color but black, green, or silver. The colors were mocking him right now- mocking little twisted things that weren't even living! Snapped out of his rant when he heard Blaise's, "Harry! Hurry up, we don't want to be late for our first class with Professor Umbridge, do we? She might get angry, and rat us out to the Minister!"

Huffing slightly, he ran towards his friend- not forgetting to grab his bag in the process- and smiled half-heartedly, "Why can't we just skip visiting the pink puffball?"

"Because Harry, we want to pass, right? Yes we do, and while you want to be a healer, and have private lessons with Madame Pomfrey, I wish to have something more exciting to do! And I want to get hurt so you're the one to treat me~" the older teen cooed as he dragged his still smaller-than-the-average-guy friend after him towards the horrid lair of Dolores Umbridge.

Harry groaned as they sat down early, but at least that way he was sitting with Pansy and Theodore in front of him, and Blaise next to him. He was awfully glad to have his friends around him- if they weren't there he didn't know what he would do to the puffball if she was as awful as Gilderoy Lockhart. The man was a monster. "Ew. At least I already know everything she's going to teach, or not, either way, I know it," he mumbled to Blaise, who smiled back.

"Hell yeah- we know this already. We're Slytherins. Are parents expect great things from us- so either way we are prepared for whatever this lady throws out, unlike the Golden Boy," snickered the taller teen pointing to the Gryffindors who had just entered the room.

For some reason Harry felt his eyes trail on Draco- the blond had lost his childish features, and now stood tall, lithe and pretty. Turning with a shudder of disturbance he muttered back, "Really, Malfoy could have gotten so much better. But he's stuck with a fool. How pathetic, his mother is disgusted with him. I would know- Auntie Cissy never shuts up whenever she comes to visit Padfoot alone; eh well, Moony is always there too... but..."

"That's a juicy tidbit Harry," Blaise returned just before the bell rang.

Quickly as the professor walked out from her room, Harry whispered solemnly, "Welcome to hell. Please- enjoy the complimentary pink puffball." And it fit- the short professor was still wearing the horrible pink thing; Pansy had a scowl of distaste on her face (which meant it was out of fashion by so many decades).

"Welcome, students, to Defence Against the Dark Arts class. I am Professor Umbridge, good morning," the teacher smiled, and smiled wider as the students replied to her greeting, "If you learn well, and do not lie, we shall get along fine. If you do not, then I shall have to punish you. Understand? Now I believe Albus Dubledore- your headmaster- has been filling your heads with the lie that a certain dark wizard has returned, right? Well you see students- the Minister wishes to tell you that that is all a lie. You-Know-Who is not returning anytime soon, so you shall have no need to learn how to defend yourself against the dark arts. Any objections to this?"

No one raised their hand, nor spoke out- until that was, Neville did, "But I saw Voldemort! I did! Are you suggesting Cedric decided to drop dead of his own accord!?"

She fixed a glare on the Boy Who Lived, the sweet disgusting smile still plastered on her face, "The Dark Lord has not returned, Mister Longbottom, and we do not speak out in this class."

Already Harry hated the teacher- she was denying that Riddle was back. Which meant she was denying that he had paid back any debt to that snakeman (who had probably gotten into massive quantities of crack at some point in his life). This meant the professor was on his 'People who deserve to suffer hell' list already. Just below Neville Longbottom, and Albus Dumbledore. So he raised his hand.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"I was wondering, Professor Umbridge, that if we do not learn to defend ourselves against the dark arts- how will we be able to defend ourself if the need ever arise? Since it is only understandable, and an intelligent woman like yourself, should agree that sometime in the future- whether it be two or one hundred years- a dark wizard powerful enough to cause trouble will arise. As it is shown throughout the course of history, and without dark wizards, there would not be wizards and witches of light. If, you agree, Professor," Harry said quickly- but not quick enough to make it seem as if he were afraid of the puffball.

"Mister Potter, what is it you wish to train for when you leave Hogwarts?" The short woman suddenly asked.

His sharp, unnatural emerald eyes narrowed slightly as he answered, "A healer, Professor."

"And what, would a healer need to know of the defenses against the dark arts now, Mister Potter?"

"I would need to know exactly the extent of the damage- whether by curse, hex, or jinx, and the proper way to counter the afforementioned ailment. It is suggested that anyone wishing to become a healer, should at least have been able to reach the NEWT levels in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and know how to properly counter the dark arts before training as a healer," Harry finished but then added a, "Professor Umbridge," for safety measures.

"And are you suggesting, Mister Potter, that another witch or wizard will attack a fellow with the dark arts?"

"It is perfectly possible if the person in question knows the proper way to use the dark art he or she wishes to cast," the raven haired boy replied, now feeling unnerved slightly by the fact that the Gryffindors seemed to agree with him- it seemed everyone but Neville and Ron were sending him encouraging glances.

Then the short lady replied, reluctantly of course, "Ten points to Slytherin, Mister Potter, for being quick of wit and knowing more than you should. Congratulations."

Harry and Blaise shared a grin.

**A constellation of divine architecture built on Earth;  
A holy harbour - Orion,  
Nautical ascension to the firmament**.

"Potter."

"Malfoy, Longbottom, Weasel, and Hermione," was the return from the emerald eyed teen as he leaned against the pulled away bricks that lead to the entrance of the Slytherin dorms, "Now why- why would you be here? Oh now- has it something to do with this mornings DADA lesson? Come to brave the serpents' den just because I proved wittier than you? How charming, but I do believe you aren't supposed to tread in enemy waters."

"Listen Potter, we didn't come to exchange pleasentries- you do realize that Umbridge isn't teaching us anything- she's just giving us theories that try to disprove the existence of the dark arts and their counters. So we've come with a proposition of sorts, Potter," Neville ground out, glaring at his and Malfoy's supposed rival.

Suddenly Harry felt the overwhelming pain that had attacked him on the train return in a prickling sensation, "Yes, well what is it? I don't have all night you know; work to do and such."

"We're going to start a secret group to teach DADA to anyone who wants to actually learn, not be bothered," Hermione butt in quickly, "By that professor's theories. So are you in? After all- you would want to learn DADA more than anyone, right? The first meeting is tonight, in the Room of Requirment, I know you know where that is, at midnight. Can you be there?"

"I'll think about it-- Don't-- Worry, I won't tell anyone--" The raven haired teen managed to get out before closings the bricks in the Gryffindors' faces, racing towards his room.

In the sanctum of his own room; with no one to bother him as the door had a special charm on it that prevented anyone from getting in without the owner of the room's permission- the haggard looking teen slid to the floor. He curled into a tight little ball inbetween his dresser and bed, his hands clenching and unclenching wildly. The pain was unreal; like someone had set fire to his flesh and then doused it repeatedly with alternating gasoline and needles. A stinging sensation had begun small in his stomach, but spread out along his arms and legs, only certain traced areas feeling the stabbing pricks while the rest of his body still felt as if it was being burnt alive (or what he assumed it felt like to be burnt alive). The worse part of it was that he could not slip into the blissful peace of being unconscious- oh no, he had to endure the torture his body was being put through. Suddenly something wedged itself from the deep recesses of his mind- something he was not aware of before- a memory it seemed that he had not yet experienced.

_He was floating-_

_Floating amongst the crowd of people; they were not aware of his presence. Humans were never aware of those spirits that drifted aloft the sweet swells of emotion that flowed in the dew- the clouds- the smallest breath- the biggest scream- into the vast Beyond that the mortal creatures had dubbed 'Space'. They could not sense the presence of those not born unto them yet- they could not feel as his hands played in their hair; winding and twisting the strands like a merry breeze. They were walking, marching, to the gallows. The gallows to watch the hanging of a heretic- a witch. In truth he did not understand why the fleeting creatures chose to ostracize their own flesh and blood as abominations just because someone acted different. Didn't understand why they were not accepting; why they could not allow what they didn't understand to exist._

_He did not stick around to watch the poor woman have her neck snapped by the rope. The wonderful call, a slight pull on his navel sent him spiraling to his own reality. To gaze at the bright blue and green planet dotted with white below. A voice from behind whispered, "Where did you go, ixyune?"_

_Turning, he gave a soft smile to the blue-haired man, "I went to see the jyeyt, Seranth. I wanted to understand the people we would live amongst in future times."_

_Seranth sighed, and placed an arm on the smaller one's shoulders, "Dearest ixyune, you know that things change- the jyeyt can change as well. So, Huinryth, do not think that they are so awful. I for one, have heard the jyeyt's most wonderous songs, tasted their sweetest desserts, and seen acts of kindness that you cannot believe. So you see, ixyune, you have just been looking in the wrong place."_

_Tilting his head to the side, soft raven hair tickling his lips, he answered his friend, "Or perhaps, I just want to know what to be wary of, Seranth. Perhaps- you should show me these good things of the jyeyt's. Can you?"_

_Smiling a true, sincere smile at his friend, the blue haired man whispered in the smaller figure's ear, "I would be delighted to, my ixyune Huinryth."_

Gasping, trying to take in as much air as possible, he returned from the dream-like memory, the sensations burning into his mind, and the words meaningful to his lips. As the memory that burned in his mind slowly seemed to fade into a regular everyday thought, the last traces of pain flicker away. Strangely he felt more alive than he had ever been; the pain had caused his sense, or so he assumed, to become hyper aware. The smells- the colors- the feeling- and probably the taste- all of it was different than before. Flexing a pale hand before his face, he felt like his body finally belonged to him. Well more than it had before. Suddenly he wondered aloud, "Do I look any different?"

Rushing into his own bathroom, he stared in the mirror. His school clothes hadn't been damaged at all- and his hair was slightly longer, but that was it. Even his eyes were the still mocking emerald, fake to him- and him alone. Glaring at his reflection, he left the bathroom and flopped down on his bed. Looking towards his alarm clock he wondered how long he had been in pain for- the cheap thing read 11:40.

Oddly, he decided to risk it and go to this DADA thing the Gryffindors had devised. And he prayed it wasn't a trap.

**The Unicorn arrives with the westwind to dream His funeral--  
"Thou art born for Horus dwells in Thee."**

**Slumbering with the ebb and the flow of this foaming tomb--  
"Thou art born for Seteh dwells in Thee."**

It had been easy to get to the Room of Requirement; he hadn't run into any professors or unusual things that could have been lurking about. He figured it was thanks to his hyper aware senses (had they just been dull before?)- but still didn't take any chances as he slid into the doors just as they disappeared behind Luna Lovegood. Blinking, the raven haired teen stared at the shocked faces of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. As they pointed their wands at him, he had pulled his own out and returned the gesture. "Really? Is this how you treat a guest? I shouldn't have come- Perhaps I should have stuck to the actual dark arts, eh, Longbottom, Malfoy?" He asked cheerfully as the others put down their wands, and he slid his own back in his pocket.

"Potter? I really hadn't expected you to come-" Malfoy said in surprise, glancing down slightly at the dark haired teen.

"You have no faith in me? I did say I would think about it- really, it hurts that you think so little of me, Malfoy," the smaller teen whimpered in a fake woe-is-me tone. A few of the other students snickered at that and others looked at him with disbelieving glances, "What? Are you looking at me after I made a joke, because you think a Slytherin has no sense of humor? I for one, am insulted."

"Yeah- anyways Potter- we were just starting on the Patronus charm, would you like to be the first demonstration? We have a boggart that'll turn into a dementor. What say you, afraid, Slytherin?" Longbottom angrily snapped at the only snake in the den.

Smiling, the one in question walked over to the front of the shaking chest, and quipped, "Sure, just tell me what to do, and I'll do my best, Mr. Professor Longbottom, sir." A few students snickered at that, Malfoy included.

Glaring Longbottom said, "Think of a happy memory, and say '_Expecto Patronum_' while pointing your wand at the boggart-dementor. Got it Potter?"

"Indeed I do, Professor Longbottom, sir, yes sir, I do," was the mocking chirpy voice, completely unusual of the Slytherin to the rest of the Houses.

"Alright, release the boggart-dementor," grunted the Boy Who Lived.

The cold was immediate in the area, and Harry swore it was worse for him than anyone else. He tried to bring up a happy memory- one of Sirius and Remus taking him to get his first snake (which had passed away of old age by now)- but the memory from when he had been in pain showed instead. He decided to go with it as, "_Expecto Patronum_!" left his lips, and a silver mist left the tip of his wand. A faintly humanoid shape appeared amongst the mist, the only deviation from being human was that it had no external features, and tiny curving antlers rose from its head. The boggart-dementor shrieked and retreated back into the chest, the lock clicking shut. The humanoid Patronus turned to Harry- bowed, and vanished as if it had never been there.

Malfoy was the first to clap, and patted his supposed enemy on the back, "Good job, Potter. A strange Patronus indeed, but effective nonetheless. Took me a bit to the find the right memory- but I got it on my second try. My Patronus is a dragon, no shock there. It took Neville a bit, he won't say why though, its probably because he's felt what the dementors can really do. His Patronus is a bear."

"That's nice Draco," muttered the emerald eyed Slytherin, then he blinked, "Er, did I just call you by your first name? No idea where that came from- but I guess its a sign. Perhaps we should call a truce, just until we can get rid of Umbridge? And if it lasts past that- well, then hell, I'd be willing to call you a friend. Maybe- but I could never trust you, because of Golden Boy over there. So, truce?" He held out his hand, tilting his head in question.

Suddenly the blond Gryffindor smiled, and returned the gesture, "Truce then, Harry," then the silver eyed taller teen snorted, "Golden Boy? Is that what you call Neville?"

"Yeah- 'cause he Dumbledork's favorite- he got the Malfoys to the Light- pssh- oh, but that, Draco, is only the nicer of the things we call Longbottom," Harry chirped, ignoring the fact that the Golden Boy was in hearing range.

"You have worse names than that for Nev'? Huh, what are they?" The blond questioned suddenly, leaning over the smaller teen- trying to intimidate Harry into talking.

"Oh no- I shall never tell you! It is far to crude for Gryffindor ears! If it told you, then surely, a dementor would like a daisy compared to what has been spoken about ye ol' Golden Boy!" The Slytherin crowed, laughing at some of the things he had heard, and said. And, he certainly didn't intend to tell anyone in that room. Ever.

**Reveal your face to me and guide me through the Stygian fields--  
Enthrall my soul to Septet's beams to serve Your will.**

**Sailing on the distant seas from darkness to deliverance--  
Tales like the ocean written to the Draco's glance.**

Somehow he had ended up having detention for Umbridge along with Draco and Longbottom. Harry didn't know what to expect when he entered the professor's room, but it hadn't been plates with cats on them hanging on the wall.

The _pink_ wall.

Suddenly, he preferred to see a thousand smiling Gilderoy Lockharts to fluffy kittens. Sending a horrified glance at Draco, he sat in the desk that was on the opposite side of the blond. He turned toward the sitting professor, who smiled at him and said, "Do you know why you are here Mister Potter? Mister Malfoy, and Mister Longbottom already know why they are here."

Returning the smile cheekily, he managed to get out a decent, "Yes, Professor Umbridge, I do know why I am here. I accidentally lied that a dark wizard could come from this very school." Still, the Slytherin knew that every person (and kitten) in the room understood that claiming that what he said was a lie, was the actual lie.

"Good boy. So you three will be writing with a few special quills, 'I must not tell lies.' And how many? As many as it takes to sink in," she sweetly said, handing a blood colored quill to each student.

Unlike Longbottom who decided to ask questions, Harry just started writing with the dry quill, slightly amused as the words begun to form on the page. He was not amused, however, when pain pricked along his opposite hand and the words appeared on the skin and faded away. He glanced up and noted the sadistic look on Umbridge's face, which he returned with an amused smirk. Just to bother the pink puffball. _Really, it will never compare to the pain of that night and the train-_ he thought bitterly, as he continued to right.

He didn't really notice how long he wrote the words for but he looked up when he heard, "Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy, you may both leave. And seeing has you would have had a class right now, you are free to spend the rest of the time as you like."

Grinning, he thanked Professor Umbridge, grabbed his bags and left with Draco following. He would have gotten to the end of the corridor without having anything to do with the blond he had recently made a truce with, until said blond slammed the smaller teen against the nearest wall. "What's with the two-face personality? Sucking up to Umbridge? I thought you wanted to get rid of that short annoying woman-" the blond all but snarled until Harry managed to get a word in.

"Honestly Draco- I would think you at least would get what I was doing. Two-face? That hurts, it really hurts. I do want to get rid of Umbridge; 'sides the job is jinxed either way. But look at it this way- play her game when around the puffball, and no more detention with kittens and evil quills. Simple really," he managed to get in, squirming uncomfortably as the blond still had him pinned to the wall.

After the silver eyed teen appeared to have thought over what the smaller one had said, he released the Slytherin from his grip. "Alright, but next time find someway to explain, really, Harry," the blond muttered, "Sorry about that- I just let the Gryffindor thoughts get to me, I guess."

Grinning slightly, the emerald eyed teen returned, "Hey- It's okay, not even my friends can tell when I'm faking or really meaning something, so no harm done."

Draco simply gave Harry an odd look, which made the smaller teen tilt his head in question, "Something wrong, Draco?"

"It's nothing- just- well, your friends can't even tell? How are you supposed to- you know- have a relationship with someone past friendship, if they can't even tell if your playing with them or not?" The blond asked his acquaintance, truly curious.

Giving the blond a sad smile, Harry replied with a almost unnoticeable broken tone, "Well... I don't really ever intend to have an intimate relationship with anyone. See- I can't stand being alone with a person for more than two hours. And its antagonizing for people to just, well, get close enough for skin-skin contact..."

"Oh," was all Draco could utter at first, and then he realized that he had made a mistake earlier, "I'm sorry about that, Harry."

The other smiled weakly and whispered, "I already told you its fine- besides, you didn't know."

**Ruling with the scythe of death you tear our philosophies apart--  
An ancient starwalk to merge into the stars.**

And finally as the first weekand of November arrived, it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry was delighted- finally he would be able to get away from the puffball. Grinning he put on a midnight blue shirt, tight jeans (he didn't care that they were Muggle clothes- they were still nice), and a warm black jacket. Blaise asked him as they headed towards the train, "Oh? Does Harry have a date? Is my little cutie pie finally growing up?"

"No Blaise- I don't have date. Unless you count being around Draco with none of Golden Boy and his lackies, a date. If so, then sure, if not, then no," chirped the Slytherin, since Longbottom wasn't able to go to Hogsmeade, Draco had asked if Harry would go with him. Being a good friend, Harry had agreed, but he wasn't sure if that was his only motive.

"With Draco? Eh- Harry, if you hadn't noticed, he's engaged to the Golden Boy," The taller teen pointed out, as if Harry didn't already know.

"Yes, Blaise, I realize that. But- think about this- if he has some creature blood (like veela) in him like most people think... then he wouldn't be able to be put into a forced marriage, if that person was not his future mate, right?" The younger teen pointed out, looking for the familiar shock of platinum blond.

"Oh yes Harry- there is that. But we're forgetting something here- What was it? Oh I remember- You. Don't. Want. A. Relationship. With. Anyone. Remember? You ranted about girls (and a few guys) asking you out last year," the other Slytherin pointed out sarcastically.

"So?" He grumbled, "I was just pointing out a fact, sheesh." He grinned suddenly, "Oi! Draco! Over here!" The blond he had spotted waved and walked over, pausing when he saw Blaise.

Blaise grinned when he noticed that the blond Gryffindor seemed nervous, and chatted idly with Harry, "Oh and Harry, I forgot to mention that Theo broke up with Pansy because he really had the hots for me, and you know I've had the hots for him, so we got together (and Pansy actually only dated him so he could make me jealous, and so she could make some other guy jealous). This Hogsmeade trip is our first official (and probably legal) date, wish me luck!" Then the Slytherin waltzed away, grinning like a madman over to his boyfriend.

Harry laughed a little at that and turned to Draco, "Don't worry; he's usually like that. Blaise won't bite, much, or well he will if you touch Theo now, I guess."

The blond had a slightly perplexed look on his face but said, "I see."

"Something the matter?" piqued the curious ravenhead.

"Erhm, well, its just... Neville thought this was a date, considering I'm going with someone other than him. Not that he ever takes me to Hogsmeade without Ron or Granger close behind," muttered the blond, "So what do you usually do when you go to Hogsmeade?"

Harry didn't answer but started towards the woods, ignoring the blond's protests of 'the forest isn't safe!' Truth be told- he still thought Draco was annoying, and he only wanted Umbridge gone. The smirk dancing across his face was worthy of the worst Slytherins in history- the bitter air nipping at his face seemed to agree. Leaves having fallen from the trees, their bare black branches reached in a needy desperation towards the sharp blue sky.

A trickle of water running along pebbles told Harry he had shown up where he had intended to go, with Draco close behind. The blond gasped at what he saw- A short tree with branches like fingers stood in a clearing, crisp water running from a bubbling pool from between branches into the field of pebbles. The water was apparently warm; as steam rose from the multi-colored stones where the water flowed and touched. Tiny globs of pale blue light flickered about the steam, chirps and whistles coming from the spheres that circled the tree in a form of a dance.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

"Ye- Yeah. But, Harry, what on earth is this?" The confused blond asked, hoping the other knew.

"This is a nest of Solki, Draco. Solki are- well- cautious beings that came from one of the outer planets of the solar system(which one, he didn't know). Having a love for running water, many of them had settled here on Earth because it is abundant in water. They are dangerous- they will kill anyone who tries to drink from the source of water they live near. Hence no one believing they exist," Harry all but whispered, finding the pale glow soothing.

"Amazing, their so pretty," the blond whispered, ogling at the tiny creatures playing in the steam, rising and falling with the great bursts of warm air.

"That's why I always-"

Stopping mid sentence, the smaller teen collapsed to the frozen ground, grasping his arms tightly. Closing his eyes as the horrible sensation of pain welled up in his stomach again, burning worse at his shoulder blades than anything. The tiny pinpricks of pain that were usually spread out in his body were suddenly focused in certain areas as the blond picked him up. It hurt worse than the other times it had happened because someone was putting pressure on the pricks- so now he swore some invisible force was dragging an iron across his skin slowly in certain areas. He tried to escape from Draco's grip, but that made the pain intensify as Draco held him tighter.

The whisper sounded like a shout, "I'm taking you to Madame Pomfrey, hold on-"

Suddenly it was all too much, and he was able to escape into the bliss of a memory instead of pain.

** "Open thy veins for my venom-  
Kiss the cobras with thy twisted tongue,  
So shalt thou join the empyrean circus,  
Where beggars mourn and seraphs dance-  
In this twilight cathedral.  
Shall I wed thee,  
O Bride of the Netherworld?"**

He woke to the scent of the infirmary- and judging by the walls he was in a private room. Groggily he sat up, and then snapped his eyes shut before letting out an angry sound at the Gryffindors there. Blaise and Theodore were on the other side of the bed, glaring at Ron, Neville, Draco, and Hermione. "Oh he's awake!" The muggleborn witch squealed, backing away from the bed as Harry slapped his hands over his ears, wincing at the loud tone.

"Why am I here?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse and unused.

"You collapsed in some kind of fit-" Draco started to say but was cut off by the younger teen.

"I know that, Malfoy. I was wondering, why am I _here_? In the _infirmary_? I don't know about you- but I would rather not have the professors- much less other students knowing about such infrequent jolts of pain," hissed the Slytherin, pulling away from the worried students.

"Oh, uhm, well you see- Umbridge took over the school basically, well she can change the rules, when you were out- and saw fit to tell everyone about your condition, so, ah, everyone knows now," Longbottom snorted, sounding smug about it.

"Here comes Umbridge, Dumbledore, and Pomfrey, Harry," muttered Theodore, sending a worried glance toward his fellow Slytherin.

"Would you like to explain why you collapsed in pain, Mister Potter?" Umbridge asked sweetly, as she gave the prone teen a contradicting look. Dumbledore, Pomfrey, and everyone else in the room looked like they wanted to know.

"I want to know that too," the teen snapped irritably, the memories still fresh in his mind.

"Then we'll have to run some tests- there are some creatures in the world that are mixed the magical community that leave the transition of that inheritance, rather painful," Dumbledore said in a sagelike manner, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Harry.

"Oh no- You are not turning me into some lab specimen! No way- Never! Not in a million years with hell frozen over seven times! I've already looked up on all the possible creatures- I'm none of 'em. Memory proves worthy at times of pain, I figure, as what it showed me now proved so," The teen in subject snarled, tensing as he glared fiercely at the wand.

"So you know what you are?" Umbridge asked.

Pulling his knees to his chest, Harry gripped his arms tightly, the horrific memory still burning in the lids of his eyes- and the taste of new flesh and blood still burning his tongue. Shakily he managed to get out, "I know I'm not human. That I _never_ was."

Quickly Dumbledore asked, "What do you mean?"

Slowly the small teen lifted his head up, and unnerved everyone but the Slytherins with his eerie grin, "The Potter's child was never really born."

** Sailing on the distant seas...**

**Join my soul the Hunter in the sky.

* * *

a/n: **It got crappy towards the end. Oh well. :D This is just so easy to write though, I could go on and on this idea for some reason. I wonder why? But oh well! I probably just jinxed it but, what the hell?

Definitions

(Key: _word_ - English meaning; proper definition)

_ixyune _- friend/partner; someone you would trust your life with

_jyeyt _- humans; short-lived beings that are viewed as being lesser

_Seranth _(name) - depths of the sea; He that dwells in the city of the sea

_Huinryth _(name)- cries of the broken bird; One that flies the swell on wings of ink

If you loved- review.

If you hated it- tell me why.


	3. Desire is not Reserved for Him

**disclaimer; **I do not own anything that occurred or was mentioned in the original Harry Potter books. All characters coming from the books belong solely to J.K Rowling. Any characters not from the books are made by me, or one of my friends. The bold face lyrics in this chapter is _The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth_ by Creature Feature.

**warnings; **violence (major in this one), swearing, shounen ai (boy/boy), ooc-ness, evil!Harry, good-but-still-evil!Draco, Boy Who Lived!Neville, and more... (:D)

**a/n; **Sorry it took a while. I was debating about having this one part in here or not. Turns out it goes better with the next chapter, let's just say the next chapter shall be... ah... _different_. :)

* * *

**Our story starts so very, very deep underground,  
Unaware of the legions they are building down there,  
Then comes the sound, a shrill signal loud enough to drown,  
The time has come Mother Nature's now holding the gun.**

They had been angry. Horribly angered by his refusal to tell them what he meant- but it did not matter to him. They were stupid.

Stupid- because they used people and were used by others. But he was guilty of the first; he used people, but then that was because it was inevitable. Everyone used someone at one point or another. Since they obeyed what seemed natural; what seemed real. Even if he had told him what had happened to the real Harry Potter, they wouldn't understand one bit. Because they were human, and humans couldn't grasp what they did not understand- even witches and wizards had that problem. Sighing he turned his gaze to the side towards the Gryffindors who sat beside him- it was the holiday and all the Slytherins had left because they had families. Well, he did too, he had Sirius and Remus; but they were on vacation somewhere warm. In some sort of anger at him, Dumbledore had agreed with Umbridge that someone should be with Harry at all times, so that whenever he had a fit of pain he could be taken to the infirmary.

There had been two incidents where the burning feeling returned, but he ignored it the best he could; he didn't want to be seen as weak. He didn't want to play their game anymore. Harry wouldn't be used anymore, and they wouldn't figure it out. However, they would eventually. He knew that; he wasn't stupid. He was getting weaker by the days; it was hard to lift up a book without a wave of nausea causing him to shudder. The blond next to him was getting suspicious- Harry figured Malfoy would be the one to figure it out.

The others left, leaving him alone with the blond Gryffindor- who received a hateful glare from the Slytherin. On cue the blond snapped, "Why are acting like an asshole now? You were being so nice- so not like a Slytherin, before."

Grinning, the other answered coolly, "Yes, well. That was to get rid of Umbridge, but seeing as she won't be leaving anytime soon... I don't need to be friendly with you. I would hate to break it to you, but you need to know. I never thought of you as anything more than a tool- someone that would help get rid of Umbridge and then not have anything to do with afterwards. But guess what- we can't get rid of the woman, so I don't have any need of you, _Malfoy_."

The blond, clearly insulted left with what seemed to be gathering tears (but he doubted it because the blond would still want to keep up his Malfoy image). "He thought something more of it, eh?" Harry asked himself quietly, "How sad. I almost feel sorry for him- almost."

A few minutes later, a red-faced Longbottom and a disheveled Malfoy were back in the room. "Oh? What brings you here Longbottom?" the raven haired teen asked, feigning innocence. He was the reason why Longbottom was here, so he sent a chilling look at the blond.

He got a punch to the face in return, the Boy Who Lived had a very pissed off expression on his face as he watched the Slytherin stumble back onto the floor. "Listen here, Potter. If you ever hurt Draco again, I'll kill you."

"Oh that's so sweet. The Golden Boy really cares for blondie, I thought it was just a mutual arrangement to make Golden Boy and the Malfoys look much more important than they really are," he snarled, feeling the side of his face tenderly- it stung.

This made the Golden Boy turn red-faced once more, and he went after the Slytherin with a murderous gleam in his eyes. The teen was out of reality- he as only seeing red and wasn't going to listen to reason. Then the pain came as the taller teen kicked and punched and clawed- really anything- at the Slytherin who had curled up in a ball to protect his face and stomach. At some point during the attack, he felt the blood running down his back- and heard someone scream and pull the raging teen away from him. When the kicking and clawing stopped he uncurled and ran for the door. Getting away was the only thing he could understand right now, and he did manage to get to his room with people just barely shut on the outside.

The door was locked- no one would be getting in.

He was safe.

Sighing, he winced as his back tightened oddly as he walked stiffly over to the bathroom door. Right now he needed a hot bath, and time to think.

The hot water caused steam to roll through the tiled room, fogging up the mirror as the teen undressed, rubbing away the fog to see the extent of the damage. Even he was shocked by what he saw.

Mottled bruises ranging from black, blue, yellow, and brown ran up and along his back. The skin had broken for a few and blood had dried along one side of his back- flaking off as he moved. Across his shoulder blades the blood was still flowing, and didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon. Trembling he slid into the hot water, it felt soothing on his back, the muscles relaxing and he calmed down.

Had he expected the Boy Who Lived to be that violent? No he hadn't, he had severely underestimated the Gryffindor's strength. But he had known that the other teen had a severe temper; he just hadn't known the extent of it. _Oh, ah, it hurts so bad. I'm so weak- if it wasn't for the stupid pain I've been in almost constantly I wouldn't be bleeding._

"If he only he knew- wha- wait? If only who knew? Oh wait... Seranth, yeah, him. If my _ixyune_ was here, I wouldn't have to deal with that. But I'm weak- I should only expect this to happen," he mused aloud, not enjoying how his words echoed across through the room unheard by anyone.

** Well once you enter the Hive-  
You'll never make it out alive;  
It's been devised-  
So no human being will survive.**

Snowflakes drifted down, a swirl of cautious white uncertain of what awaited it when it touched the white blanket below.

He hated it. The snow, the innocence, the way it winked out of existence at the barest touch of heat. Weak and pointless, just as the humans scurrying about with little to no purpose in the bustling city. The wind blew his dark locks into his field of vision, and a frown grew on his face. Flexing a pale hand, the blue haired man thought about how easy it would be to just destroy the humans. How easy it would be to erase the pointless little ants scurrying about in a world full of things they would try to destroy if they knew existed.

Letting out a sigh, he watched the silvery coils of breath fade into the gray sky. Memories slipped in from the haze of his mind, old memories that he would rather forget.

He wasn't human, no, far from it to be exact. He hadn't even been created on this planet full of life; his real home was far away. Too far away, for it had ceased to exist. Only a few of his kind had managed to escape from the destruction, and they had learned from it. Had learned that you had to watch how you used the things you did, too much it would be gone, too few and you would be gone. It had been agonizing, watching the human race evolve. Evolve and destroy things they didn't know existed. Horrible.

Twirling the pale blue rose in his fingers, he thought back. Back to when he had admired the human race for surviving amongst things so unlike them.

It had been wonderful then, sure there was bloodshed, but that could be expected amongst any group of similar creatures.

But humans had gotten out of hand.

So the elder, the wisest of those who had survived, had given them the order. Begin the erasure of humans. Or rather, slaughter the ones that had no care for the world around them. Who did not see behind the falsities and lies. Those who were not accepting of other creatures besides themselves would have to go. Get rid of the lesser things. The ones who were arrogant, those who cared little.

The first thing to reduce the human population had been cancer. Strange and unusual to humans, the disease that was like the common cold to his kind ravaged the human race with ease. Humans could evolve around it, but to many would be gone by then. He had laughed at the fact humans could counter such a weak ailment, but he suspected it was because the virus had fleshed from a different place entirely. Now it was just boring, to watch them fall.

Better it would be if they fell knowing other things existed besides themselves.

Throwing back his head and letting out a eerie laugh, he had been glad that the elder had agreed. Send one of their own in a human body, borne from human parents, from _magic_ parents to live oblivious to his difference until he became of a certain age. Then he would begin to remember what he was, and relay what he knew of magic folk who would agree to their kin's ideas. Who would agree to remove the worst of the humans. Possibly reduce the population by a lot, and give back the planet to creatures and magic folk who would take care of it.

Cheshire grin glinting in the dark, he stalked off.

** Could it be worse?  
I think they've acquired a thirst,  
We claimed it first-  
Now the Meek Shall Inherit The Earth.**

He twisted and moaned, the pain wrenching his body fitfully. He hadn't expected getting struck by a truck while wandering aimlessly up the mountain road. But it had happened, and the truck had sailed over to the cliff face, exploding in a cloud of fumes and fire. In desperation not to be discovered by humans, he had slid of to the guard rail of the cliff, and merely dropped down below. It had agitated the wounds to slide down the jagged rock into the forest below, but it had helped him get away before anyone came to examine why a truck had blown up.

Thick, dark blood pooled from his crushed side, and a stinging sensation traveled up and down his spine. However slowly the feelings receded, and he watched with rapt fascination as the bone adjusted itself to the way it was before. The bright red flesh began spreading, recreating itself of the exposed innards, muscles flexing involuntarily as they adjust to sensation of being real once more. Pale skin stretched and fitted itself onto the contours of muscle and bone, hiding the vulnerable flesh from the outside world once more. Pupils nothing more than tiny slits in narrowed violet eyes, he stretched to get used to the feel of the newer tissue.

It felt more real than the old flesh, and flowed easier, as it hadn't suffered the usage the old had. So much better, he mused, but now he was starving. Licking his lips, he trailed forth, zigzagging through the tall dark trees, eyes flashing dangerously in the dark. A sound alerted him that something was nearby- "Oh god. Oh god. I'm lost. I got separated from Harold and my darling baby. I knew this camping trip wasn't a good idea."

And why not satisfy his hunger on a human, on the very thing he sought to rid the world of?

"Wh-Who, what's there?" Fear quivered in the woman's voice, "If that's you Harold, this isn't funny!"

A predatory grin spread across his face as he flexed pale fingers, circling his prey with a feline grace. His soothing, almost musical voice replied softly, "No, miss. I'm not Harold. And of course it isn't funny; this isn't a joke." The woman tensed, and he could see the fear rolling off of her sweaty skin in waves. Chuckling at the sight, he lunged forward, pale hands grasping her throat from the side. She struggled, and gasped for air, but the hands digging into her neck were too strong. Face turning blue, she struggled her last before her head lolled awkwardly to the side.

Sneering at the weakness, he dragged sharp nails all over the purple-ish marks. Then it happened.

The flesh on his back began to distort, dark shapes of liquid blue rose from his shoulder blades, resembling the wings of birds, if not for the scaly covering, and claws tipping the ends of certain points. The wing-like appendages sunk deep into the stomach of the woman, blood traveling up the scaly forms, and several bones pulled from the flesh, he fled the scene.

Away from the dead woman, he eyed the bones his wings had snatched from the body, meat still clung soaked in blood. Dropping his prize to the ground, he picked one up and crunched lazily on the blood soaked flesh and bone. Swallowing everything, including the bone, he yawned as he finished the rest of the stolen meal. Humans weren't as tasty as he thought they would be.

Sighing, the dark haired man walked in a different direction than he had come, the scaled appendages seeping back into his shoulder blades. Faking unawareness of those who followed him, he whipped around and snarled as a wand was pointed at his throat. "Stand down beast, you are to be brought to the Minister for questioning. We are not beyond using force."

Three other wizards stood behind the first, wands at the ready. Eyes narrowed, they seemed unnerved at his presence. Scowling, the dark haired man lunged forward once more, unperturbed by the feel of magic rolling across pale flesh, fizzling and burning the clothes he wore. A savage sound tore from his throat as his fangs met the flesh of the wizard, ripping the man's life away instantaneously. Gasps of horror escaped the other three as they saw what differences showed after he had been threatened.

On all fours, back legs becoming more beast than human, spine arched like an angry cat, and the scaled wings flexing outward. His face distorted into a long, narrow wolf-like snout, pupils slitted in dark violet eyes brimming with anger. The dark hair grew longer into a blue hued mane, and claws twisted from pale fingers. Somehow in that moment, the fact was established that they should not have tried to get him to come with him. That they should have left after he had found the woman. That they shouldn't have threatened him. Shouldn't have tried to back him into a corner. That they wouldn't get away. And even if this was frightening, it wasn't even close to what he truly was. This was their time to die.

The first two of the three fell swiftly and painfully to his fangs and claws. The third trembled, and then grinned wildly. He bowed low, his curls of black hanging over his face. "Forgive their rudeness, they do not take kindly to strangers. I have no qualms with oddities, for what are we all but oddities in the universe?"

Blood covering his snout, the creature stopped and observed the trembling, bowing wizard curiously. Then he asked, for the surprise of the third who hadn't expected him to be able to speak in such a form, "And who are you that you are different?"

"Ismet, and you are?" a wary smile, and soft sea-green eyes looked at the now laying down creature.

"Perhaps I will tell you once you explain why you do not attack I, whilst the others do," he growled out, voice slowly returning to the melodious tone it held before.

Shifting slightly, the black haired wizard appeared to have a mental conflict over if he should explain or not, but then he spoke, "I'm one of the Dark Lord's, uh, lesser supporters. And he, er, wants any help he can get in ridding the world of Muggles...so wizards are the only ones left... and we don't have to hide from Muggles anymore..."

Violet hued eyes suddenly bright, the creature surged forward, grin showing his glinting teeth, "Oh! Oh! I see. I see. Well then, Ismet, I shall tell you whom I am."

The creature paused for a second, and shifted on his pale feet, "Seranth is the name my kin have given me. But Seth is what you shall call me."

"Pleased to meet you... Seth."

** Kill one and two more will take it's place.  
Withdraw, the City's under Martial Law;  
A Nameless Horror, like nothing we've encountered before-  
The time has come for Man Kind to be undone.**

Languidly stretching, Seth admired the way the silken material moved accordingly to his actions. The first thing Ismet had done was take him to get some presentable clothing for his meeting with this Dark Lord. The black haired human was now shifting uncomfortably on his feet, a dark blush spread across his cheeks; clearly he hadn't expected the strange being to so blatantly change before himself. Nor had he expected his light colored eyes to wander up and down the creature's well-built, but lean form. Certainly not _there_. Having been brought up in a strict household, he had been told countless times that liking the same gender was wrong. Even though he had killed his parents, their rules still seemed to be dug deep in his mind.

The deep, violet eyes startled the wizard out of his thoughts. Curiosity as well as confusion glittered in the gem-like orbs, and a frown played lightly on pale lips. Like a lab rat under inspection, he squirmed as it felt like the dark eyes were tearing through his mind. Gazing into his deepest secrets, and tearing apart his fragile hopes. The creature seemed about to ask something as pale lips spread apart, but stopped when a knock resounded through the silence.

A deep voice muffled through the oak door, "The Dark Lord is ready to see you now."

Pale hand reaching for the door knob Seth questioned his companion, "Aren't you coming?"

"I'm not a-ll-llowed," sputtered the confused wizard.

Scowling, the dark haired being stepped closer to Ismet, violet eyes seething, "You're coming. Or I'm not agreeing to anything."

"A-alright!" the other squeaked, following closely in the shadow of the creature.

He was nervous, hell, who wouldn't be? He was being forced, threatened, intimidated, whichever you preferred, to go and meet the one who he followed. What was worse was that he would probably die for doing so. Shaking with fear when they had approached the great double doors that would lead them to the Dark Lord and his inner circle.

The large room behind the tall iron doors was dark and gloomy, the only light coming from five torches placed as far away from the shifting, masked figures as possible. It was too dark for normal eyes, so Ismet had to stay close to the creature, whose violet eyes reflected what little light shone in the gloom. One area, higher than the rest, upon it sat a throne, a pale figure sat within it, a dark serpent wrapped around his legs. Glowing orbs of blue lit the area around the throne, and an open area where the two were standing.

Ismet bowed his head, not wanting to see if the Dark Lord was angry or not, and felt his eyes widen when Seth spoke without acknowledgment, "So you're the Voldemort I've heard _so_ much about? Impressive- for a mortal creature, of course. Did your little watcher inform you well of what he saw when I killed that woman, and those men? Was it a satisfactory method of erasing lesser beings?"

A hiss came from the pale Dark Lord, as and then replied in a sharp, rasping voice, "I did see what you did. And heard that you were interested in ridding the world of Muggles. And you shall be joining us. Whether you wish to or not, creature."

_We'll see, jyeyt. We shall see. I could crush you easily, each and every one of you, _he thought, but aloud he replied, "I'm going to help you, but for a price. See, my kin's help does not come lightly."

"And what do you want?"

Grinning, the violet eyed creature wrapped his arms around the black haired human standing next to him. Narrowed eyes focused on the Dark Lord as he played with the dark curls, "Ah, well you see... I'm in need of a _olilau_, a helper of sorts, and I just happen to think that this here Ismet would be the best one for that job. Which means you'll lose one of your supporters, since he'll be more willing to follow my orders than yours. That wouldn't be a problem, would it?"

"It wouldn't be a problem." He recognized the undertone of a threat right away- a threat that could be easily fulfilled.

Licking his lips, the dark haired creature glanced down at the trembling wizard in his arms, "Good." With no care for having a dismissal or not, he led his _olilau_ away from the gloomy room, back down the winding hallway towards the room they had been staying at previously. Ignoring the questioning look the younger (most everyone would be younger than him) one gave him, he locked the door behind them. Words left his lips before the other could ask what questions he wanted, "_Hretjiu ischa konim_."

Pushing the confused wizard onto the bed, he gave Ismet a sharp look, before heading towards the bathroom. The stench of death clung to him just as it had that room full of masked fools.

**They're coming up,  
You're going down!**

**They're coming up,  
You're going down!**

Disoriented by the chilling water, and the throbbing of his head, emerald eyes gazed around wildly. He groaned as he slid from the chilling water onto even colder tile, and felt his water-logged body protest to movement, so he just lay there trembling, naked and cold. Distantly, some part of his brain registered that someone was pounding on the door, calling out his name, trying to get his attention. Whomever it was didn't catch his attention as much as the dry, damp taste of death lingering in his mouth.

"That's right, I..." he wretched painfully, tears gathering in his eyes. Awful. He was an abomination, a monster, a horrible creature that should die. Die. Die. Die.

Painfully he stood, and wandered out of the bathroom, toward the dresser so he would be clothed when he got to seeing whoever it was that was pounding on the door. Turning to the door, now dressed in dark colors that brought out the awful pale to his skin, Harry opened the door just to recognize the voice. And the person it belonged to. Bright, silver eyes blinked in shock at the fact that the teen had really answered the frantic cries, and Draco mumbled, "Harry... Harry... I need to talk to someone... who's not in Gryffindor... just... please?"

The wet, raven-haired teen just shrugged, and moved aside for the blond to enter the dark colored room. Taking a seat at the end of the bed, his silver eyes looked around the room with something akin to want. Sitting on the floor as far away from the blond as reasonable, Harry asked, "Well?"

"I... I..." the blond was on the verge of tears, "Neville... he called me a... a... whore! He called my dad a who.. whore too..."

"Why did he call you and your father whores?" dispassionate, the raven haired asked, just wanting to get this over with so the blond would leave.

"'Cause... 'Cause..... I was worried 'bout you!" That took him off guard, and the emerald eyed teen stared wide-eyed at the blond Gryffindor. "You really looked hurt, and offended... and well... it was just weird the way you reacted... and I thought maybe, well, it was the fact that Neville was there that you acted like that..."

"Leave."

"Eh?"

"Get out. _Now_."

"Uh?"

"I said leave."

"Al... right..."

Alone, he snarled and punched the pillow repeatedly. "That. Stupid. Gryffindor." How could someone care for him? How could he let someone? He was going to have to make the blond hate him. Hate him something awful.

** Well once you enter the Hive-  
You'll never make it out alive;  
It's been devised-****  
So no human being will survive.

* * *

a/n; **So yeah. That's what was this one. Not much to say. Not much at all. 'Cept that now you get to see Seranth (Seth-y) and lovely Ismet (Izz-ee). My two adorable OC's... I could just eat them up... But I'm not a cannibal, nor do I eat meat so... xD

Definitions

(Key: _word or phrase _- English meaning; proper definition)

_olilau_ - helper; most trusted (and honored) servant

_Hretjiu ischa konim_.- none shall pass; he who wishes to pass shall not without permission

x.

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